Momentum
by ChiisanaAnisa
Summary: And maybe, just maybe she will love him a little less tomorrow. IchiRuki slightly


**Title:** Momentum

**Anime: **Bleach

**Pairing: **Ichigo/Rukia in tidbits

**Status:** Done?

**AN: **This is... I don't know what this is. I got my hands on Bleach a month ago and postponed watching it for as long as I could. Then, last week I sat down and watched 63 (end of Soul Society arc) episodes in two and a half days. Got obsessed, got mad, got weepy and laughed a lot. And then episode 63 brought me **_this_**. I tried to write this in so many ways, but was never satisfied (_I never am_). Ichigo is so damn hard to write, so I went with Rukia. Thought it would be safer. Easier. Like I said - I don't know what this is.

But I hope maybe some of you get some sense out of this. Maybe. First Bleach fic, so I beg forgiveness for any torture I may have done upon these characters.

-o-----o-

_All we need is a little bit of momentum __  
__Breakdown these walls that we've built around ourselves _  
_All we need is a little bit of inertia _  
_Breakdown and tell, breakdown and tell _

**"Momentum" **by The Hush Sound

-o-----o-

He is..

_( - he is sleeping when she comes. There are very light, hollow puffs out air coming in and out of his body. He is - )_

He is brash. Rude and annoying. Full of problems and something else she won't name because she's a lady. _(here, she can hear Renji snort in her head and say, «Hell, no way.»)_ He's strange, and something completely new, like a puzzle laid before her feet and she has half more of it to get it done.

It makes her laugh. Almost.

He is proud, so goddamn proud. Relies too much on himself sometimes, and expects too much from others in other times. Cannot choose which he likes better. Protective of his family to the point of death. _(she remembers him entering his first fight with a Hollow, running in with only a chair and his fists and his wild determination that looked like anger more than anything else she has seen in her life)_ He is strong, stronger than she could ever imagine. Solid rock - but still - stronger than she ever hoped or wished he would be -

_( - he turns on his side, one hand nestled under his head and grumbling something in his sleep. She wonders what is he dreaming about, and reaches out with her soul to feel his - )_

His presence is much like a feeling of a silent support, an unwavering boulder that just won't get smashed no matter how hard you hit. He gives and gives and gives and gives, so much it's sometimes hard to breathe around him, because he takes back so little. A helping hand _(even when he does it unwillingly, or covers it with his gruff exterior, he's a bit soft at heart – there's a picture with Chappy the Rabbit's face on Ichigo's body and this time she does laugh)_; a helping hand in need – always there beside her, or in the shadows when she least expects his -

_( - soul, trying to find the part that is still pure and untouched by her influence and her prying fingers. A short breath and she can almost see it, but then he rolls over on his back, as if he is nervous in his sleep, waiting for something. She holds her breath and hopes that - )_

He is unordinary – what with his hair and his always frowning face. Never a smile, never the black one _(and he is the 'black one', in fact, says her brother in her head and she frowns in disagreement)_, never the last one. True, he just doesn't know how to be the last one – always the first in power, the first to help, the first to arrive, the first to yell and fight and tease and laugh bitterly.

He is a bottomless sack filled with past problems, a whirlwind of emotions bottled up and down inside of him, carefully tucked away – covered in mysteries and enigmas, and she doesn't know if she really wants to discover them or just leave them rest, leave them be. But that's so hard to do, since she can't leave _him_ be.

_( - he... he calms down. There is a smile drawn on his face, just slightly pulling at his features making him look relaxed and she runs out of air - it's hard to breathe, she can't remember how to breathe and she __can remember a similar moment when she - )_

She promised she'll be back – _promised_. And he nodded. Said thanks. Smiled.

_Smiled._

_( - she's standing on the edge of his window and the air is too cold to linger there any more, but she cannot bring herself to take that step forward. He moves his arm and rests it on top of his heart and breathes out a name -_

_– she comes undone)_

He is all that she will never be and all that she'll ever need. And maybe, just maybe she will love him a little less tomorrow.

_( - he is stirring, waking up maybe, he always felt her somehow but she does not dare ask herself why it is so, but -_

Breathe. In and out. Take that step forward.

- breathe

in

- and

out

_- but it's not midnight yet, so she gathers up her fragile courage and her pride, steps into his room and lays her own puzzle beneath his feet – maybe this time he'll get it just right)_


End file.
